


Livor Mortis

by Just_Mad_Enough



Series: Negligible Senescence [4]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, I seriously don't know what's wrong with me, I should be SO SORRY, More angst, Tears, but I'm not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 05:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13697937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Mad_Enough/pseuds/Just_Mad_Enough
Summary: Livor mortis (Latin: livor—"bluish color," mortis—"of death"), postmortem lividity (Latin: postmortem—"after death", lividity—"black and blue"), hypostasis (Greek: hypo, meaning "under, beneath"; stasis, meaning "a standing"[1][2]) or suggillation, is the fourth stage and one of the signs of death.





	Livor Mortis

**Author's Note:**

> You can see that I'm really into this thing now, because it's been forever since I managed to writy more than a oneshot for ANY fandom. Uh, also? I could probably need a betareader by now. It's alright not to for a oneshot or two, but well. So if anyone wants to give it a try, I'd be happy for the help! Anyway. On with the show!

She stands in front of her mirror naked, not even a glamor hiding the ruin that is her face. Or what a human would see as ruin, anyway. There's bruises all over her body, courtesy of her latest bounty. Real son of a bitch, that one. Didn't want to come along out of his own free will, and she gladly obliged him with a little rough-and-tumble. She's not so sure now it had been a good idea. Guy got a few pretty good punches and kicks in (mostly because she let him) and now she looks as though a particularly vibrant rainbow threw up all over her. She'd need to hide the worst of the bruises or the little human would be worried.  

She already was, anyway. She's smart, that one. Everyone was trying to hide what happened (or that anything happened at all). Pretending that they were all still worried about Chloe and the poisoning.  Only Lucifer hadn't been by in almost a week, and her mother walked around the house like a zombie and she knew she wasn't behaving as she usually did, either.  

They'd need to talk to her, and soon. She was old enough to have earned the right to some honest answers. Also, old enough to grieve.  

There's a rustling behind her and glancing over her shoulder she sees the hulking form of Amenadiel, and the way he immediately turns his back upon her nudity.  

She only snorts and puts on a fluffy, black-and-red bathrobe Chloe had gotten her for Christmas.  

It's ridiculous, considering that the idiot knows every inch of her body anyway, but whatever. She waits for him to realize that he could turn around, and then waits some more. 

It's obvious that he wants to say something, that he came here with something specific on his mind, but she'd be damned (hah!) if she gave him the satisfaction of asking. But he doesn't seem to find the right place to start, so she shows  _some_ mercy. 

"You've got your wings back." 

It's a statement, not a question, obviously.  

He nods and, finally, seems to find some reminding dregs of courage and speaks. 

"Yes. I...that is..." 

Or not. She's growing impatient and crosses her arms, drums her foot on the floor. He seems to get the message. Takes a deep breath and finds a spot just left of her actual face to look at. 

"I woke up this morning, Grace running through me again. Time is back under my control, and I could call on my wings so... so I went to Hell. I thought...some people would...appreciate it if I got him back here." 

There's something stuck in her throat, something that seems to have wings of its own, and she looks around as if waiting for him to jump out of her closet and yell  _surprise_ at any moment.   

Which is ridiculous, because of course he's probably having a long,  _long_ shower to get the ash out of his hair, and... and something is wrong, because Amenadiel looks neither smug, nor long suffering. The smile that has threatened to split her face apart any moment vanishes, and she waits for the other shoe to drop. He takes a deep breath and then just bulldozes on. 

"I couldn't find him. According to some of the more...  _sentient_ creatures down there, they saw him enter one of the cells, followed shortly by his mother, and then they disappeared again. Nothing after that. I thought they might be lying, but I couldn't feel him anywhere so... so I went ho... I went to the Silver City. I thought maybe he's been allowed back but..." 

"But  _what_ , Amenadiel. Spit it out, already!"   

There's another long silence, then he closes his eyes. If she thought for a moment he had any care for her at all, she'd think he couldn't stand to see her face for what would happen next.  

And her mind is already on a loop, repeating  _pleasedon'tsayit_   _pleasedon'tsayit_   _pleasedon'tsayit_  but she knows what's coming. She can feel it in her gut now, the emptiness where her master used to have a place, this tiny spark of always  _knowing_ where to find him, whether he was alright or not. She's been telling herself she can't feel him anymore because he's in Hell and she's here, but really, it's been make-believe. And then he talks. 

"He's not. Of course he's not. He's... not allowed. I knew that, but I needed to try anyway. But he's not there, and he's not in Hell he's... Maze, I'm sorry, but I think he's... not anywhere." 

She swallows, and swallows again. The thing with wings has grown claws, only it's settled somewhere in her chest cavity now. 

"I'm sorry. I don't know how...I mean, it was... natural causes, Azrael’s Blade wasn't involved, nor any other weapon of a similar make. I don't know. Maybe it was  _because_ it was such a natural dea..." 

"Leave." 

She sounds off. She knows she does, but she needs him to go,  _now_. She won't be held responsible for what she would do to him otherwise. 

"Mazikeen..." 

"No. You need to leave, and you need to do it now, before I do something you will regret. Go.  _Leave_." 

And he does. There's a sound, like wind rustling through wings, and then... 

_...they're in front of the Gates, Lucifer has his arms around her waist, and she has hers locked behind his neck. He's grinning at her and calls up the pretty-angel-boy face. All neat hair and mischievous_   _grin, and then they're airborne, tumbling through the Gates, through blistering heat and darkness, and then they're above the ocean. She hasn't seen the ocean in centuries, not since the last time Lucifer has dragged her along on one of his little trips. It's still breathtaking, nothing like anything she can find home. The wind rustles through his feathers, and the stars are bright and yeah, she can get used to air that's not thick with ash and heat and..._  

... And nothing. She won't ever fly with him again. It was bad, back in that hospital room, when she thought something went wrong in hell and they sent his mother after him. She was  _upset_ then, she can admit that. She'd been way past upset when she tried to shake him awake later and couldn't. Now? Now she's not anything. She's empty. All cried out, no tears left. She stands in the middle of her room, barefoot, clad in only a fluffy bathrobe and she. Doesn't. Know. 

Slowly she makes her way to her bed and sits down. And look. There's some tears left, after all. They're silent, and she barely notices until they splash onto her hands. They sting on her torn knuckles. The thing in her chest is making itself known with a vengeance, and then she buries her face in her hands, and she  _feels_. She wants to cut herself open, navel to throat, crack the ribs apart and rip that thing  _out_.  

She wants to go back to  _before_. Before they left Hell, before... before she knew she could have friends, before she knew that Lucifer could be more than a Lover and a Master. Before she learned to adore a little human, before she  _hated_ for a person to be afraid of her.  

But... before was when Lucifer only laughed  _at_ people, not with them. Before he broke into a friend's house to make breakfast, and before he held her tight for a while after they fucked.  _Before_ was when he pretended to hate each and every single one of his siblings. She... liked what earth had done to them. She just hates how it ended. She never thought there would  _be_ an end. 

So she sits there and cries, and tries to think, and she can't. She can't decide if she would rather have him back the way he was back then, can't decide if this was worth it.  

In the end, she just lies down and lets herself be swept up and away. Is this what it's like to be human? If so, she doesn't want to have any part in it. She just wants him back, and she wants to go home and she doesn't, and she  _hates_ it. So she digs her fingers into the fresh bruises and pretends she just came back from a battlefield, Demon Uprising squashed, high on adrenaline. She pretends that Lucifer is right there with her, tumbling her into his bed, ripping just enough cloth and armor away to get to the important parts.  

Just for a while she pretends. That's human too, right? 

 

*** END *** 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this chapter gave me quite some trouble. Also, I think it might be the first one I'm not really in Character, but I don't KNOW. I've now clue how Maze would react to actually losing Lucifer for good. I know we saw that she'd cry for him and be really upset when she thought he might be stuck in Hell. But. Well. I hope I still did her SOME justice, and you enjoyed the read!  
> So long!


End file.
